Jericho,REIDVILLE 01,Hangover In Hell
by JT-of-JFF
Summary: From JerichoFanFiction; This is a stand alone side story outside of Jericho related to my Tuckers series.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY: David Reid starts his hangover in hell**.

**WARNINGS: Profanity**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Call it a distraction or a series for when there is no official Jericho. It is related to the Tuckers series which I will be posting shortly. This is my first FF posting so I thought I'd try something that stands on its own.**

--

FEEDBACK POLICY: Whether it is myself or any other author I encourage you to register and leave feedback. It encourages and rewards you and the author. It moves stories that you like back up where people can read them. Constructive comments encourage the writers by letting them know what you liked and disliked. In my case, it allowed audience participation in the writing process. Everybody benefits from good feedback.

--

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

--

**TITLE: REIDVILLE-Hangover In Hell, Chapter 1 of 5**

AKA:

STORY TYPE: Alternate Episode with Alternate Characters (Outside of Jericho)

**TIMELINE: 200X0930 (Bombs-1**)

EPISODE GUIDE: n/a

TUCKERAU GUIDE: n/a

--

--

--SCENE: Loft of David Reid in Reidville, SC

--

David needed his sister right now as his world fall apart around him. The state newspaper graciously gave him a heads up today that in a week they were publishing a story about his inevitable bankruptcy and the plan to make the implosion of his lifelong dream front-page news. Then they asked him for a comment. If he didn't believe in his heart that suicide was an unforgivable sin, he'd give them reason to print it tomorrow.

As he sat in the dark, with only moonlight to illuminate his loft, he raised a tall glass of Kentucky bourbon to his lips. He had already reached the point where the alcohol no longer burned his throat or warmed his stomach. Any sense of physical sensation had left sometime during the first bottle. Now his head swam and his sense of equilibrium moved in slow motion as the glass settled down onto the cool leather of his couch.

He thought about trying to stand up and head for the balcony overlooking the river, but realized if he did make it, he would only cast himself onto the water and rocks below. Normally, the gentle rapids worked to calm his nerves and to sedate his concerns, but tonight there wasn't enough water in the river to quench his distress.

While he thought about the slow moving waters of the Reidville River, he found irony in the subtle hypocrisies of his life. David Reid lived his life in false namesakes of his own creation and it was his connection to them that would be his downfall. He lived in the city of Reidville, which he helped build in the old Reidville Mill, which he converted to luxury lofts overlooking the Reidville River. The hypocrisy lie in the knowledge that the town of Reidville was almost two hundred years old and it didn't know who David Reid was. His adoption of the small rural town, which coincidentally held his name, started his long and rocky road as a city builder along which a selfish determination to create grand plans crashed into his ego and the solid rocks of reality.

For the lack of a few hundred million in liquid assets, everything would be fine, but events beyond his control would determine his fate. That's the way things fell apart in David's life. He thought, _'The best laid plans of mice and men.'_. He created the thirty square miles of city that surrounded him, but his love for it would be his downfall. After ten years of planning and acquiring land, David convinced bankers and investors to back his plan to create a planned town out of cow pastures and peach orchards. Ten years after that, the reality of the wood and cement, the asphalt and bricks surrounded him.

It mocked him, for while it was the perfect reflection of his dream, it was no longer his. In his final bid to have his own city, David had applied for and received the position of city manager. While he had pulled the strings behind the scenes for the previous twenty years, his ego demanded some form of direct control and acknowledgement. The catch was that, to avoid conflict of interest, any assets that his new position touched, had to be placed in blind trust or a public company. In David's case, that was everything. Everything he had was tied up in building the city of Reidville. He traded one type of control for another and it had damned his dream.

The story that the paper was going to release was already national news. It's just his name hadn't been attached to it until now. The evening news and the internet had been abuzz all week with stories of a rogue trader that was taking down one of Wall Streets powerhouse brokerages. The trader had spent the last year performing illegal trades in ever-increasing gambles meant to cover a series of mistakes. Instead of recovering his investments, the net result were loses to the brokerage totaling 43 of the brokerage's assets. When the yearly audit discovered his illegal actions, it forced the brokerage to stop trading and to admit it would take the banks, auditors and courts years to return the assets to its investors.

With the exception of 20, 30 and 40 year private municipal bonds which he used to fund the infrastructure of Reidville, all of David's money was tied up in the now defunct brokerage. Even if they returned him 57 cents on the dollar, it would be years before he would see it as investors filed lawsuit after lawsuit trying to take the lion's share of the dad carcass. In the meanwhile, millions of dollars in mortgage payments needed to be paid monthly on hundreds of buildings and businesses. Reidville was a long-term investment for him and he was still years away from his break-even point. He couldn't take in as much money as he had to pay out.

Therefore, while David was worth hundreds of millions of dollars, he was paradoxically broke. If he couldn't get all of loans restructured in the next week, there would be a run on his assets as banks and investors, panicked by the news stories, rushed to get in line to liquidate him.

For twenty years, he had worked to create his perfect planned city with right angles and manicured gardens. Since a child, he had dreamed huge dreams and fought all his life to create one of them. He got his bachelor's degree in architecture and his master's in business. He got into and worked in every real estate rush America provided for twelve years before he had enough experience and investors to start his own. With plans and land in hand, he set out to build the perfect, self-sustaining mix of urban center and residential development. Papers were published and articles written about his attempt to balance people, business and environment. After its first phase was accomplished, he was granted an honorary doctorate reflecting the long term impacts his designs would have. Ten years after ground breaking the one square mile town of five hundred had been transformed into a mini-urban center stretching for thirty square miles and home to eighteen thousand. Pundits held the city of Reidville up as a model for new development that might solve the problems of urban decay and suburban sprawl.

David's sister had even caught the bug. When she and her husband moved west as part of their own business plans, he volunteered to handle the land development himself. He started the land acquisitions years ago and was due to fly out a week early for Thanksgiving to get the ball rolling for a spring groundbreaking. Their plans for a new Jericho were already in motion.

'_Oh fuck.'_

Even in his sadly inebriated state, David made a realization. While all the land in Jericho was owned by his sister and her husband, it was owned through his companies. When the banks came after him, they would inadvertently seize their assets as well. The thought of failing his sister like that almost sent him through the plate glass and over the railing. She had done too much for him over the years for him to let her down. She was the only one in the family that believed in his dreams and was willing to help him make it happen. The first house he designed, built and sold in Reidville had been to his sister and her husband.

'_I'm so sorry.'_

He looked down at the drink in his hand and remembered the last time he had been this drunk. It was shortly after his wife had left him, that Beth and John came over to find David bleary-eyed drunk. When he didn't answer the door, Beth used her key to let themselves into his loft. They found him sitting in the exact position with two empty bottles on the floor. If he had been able to stand, he would have found a third.

--

"David… you can't do this." Beth Tucker turned to her husband, John, "Could you get some coffee started and bring us a pitcher of water… make that two pitchers. One with water, one empty."

"Yea… we might also want to get him closer to the bathroom."

David tried to understand what they were saying, but could no more sense of it than he could feel the urine that soaked his lap and puddled on the leather of the couch.

His sister knelt in front of him ignoring the stench, "You can't blame yourself. You followed your heart."

Realization shown in his bloodshot eyes has he remembered what she was talking about, "So you heard."

"Yeah… the lawyers called to let us know, but you had no way of knowing."

"I thought she loved me. You warned me she might be a gold digger."

"Honey… she wasn't even that. She was a pure scam artist. A professional led you on, but that's not the end of it. The lawyers say they can protect your money. All those threats she made… she can't do anything."

"I don't care about the money. I've only had two dreams… she used one to get to the other."

"I know you married her for love, but you need to get off this couch and come to grip with the fact that she was just after your money. When she left and filed for divorce, it got the lawyers looking. She's still officially married to her partner in this scam. Your marriage was never legal."

"Well it was real to me. It was real to God."

"David… DAVID! Listen to me. The church will annul it and you'll be free to pursue your dreams."

"I just wanted a family like yours. I thought it was that easy… nice neat package."

She picked up the glass John had just put on the table and filled it with water. "Here drink this." As he began to sip it, she started to bring him back to reality and back to his dreams.

--

His sister had saved him that night from drowning in the alcohol, but tonight he had only her memory. If he called her, she would talk him down again. If he called her, she would be on the next plane to Reidville even if she had to charter one.

But if he called her, he'd have to tell her that he lost half of her family's assets. It was one thing to lose his own dream. It was something else to lose someone else's. He couldn't do that. He couldn't do that tonight.

He couldn't do that ever, so he sat on the couch waiting for time and space to distort reality. The next time he went to take a drink though her image and her voice resonated in his head. He didn't take that drink and as he set the glass back down, a muscle tremor released the glass from his hand. It fell off the edge of the couch and shattered on the floor below.

Minutes passed before he raised his watch and saw that it was almost eleven. He always watched the news at eleven, so he picked up the remote and turned on the plasma screen. Nothing but white noise showed on the screen. He set the TV to scan the channels, but it was the same on all of them. Some displayed a test pattern but most were white noise. He had no one to blame but himself since he owned the cable provider for Reidville. _'Maybe they realized I can't pay the bill.'_

He laughed at himself and with himself for a moment before the acid reached the back of his throat. Knowing what was coming next, he struggled to get out of the couch's grip, but as he tried to stand his knees buckled bringing him down into the broken glass and spilled bourbon. His dignity gone he debated on collapsing right there, but the smell of the bourbon was making his stomach roil even more. He got to his hands and knees finally and slowly starting crawling.

There was no way he could make it to the second floor, so he headed for the guest bath on the first floor. He made it there without vomiting, but as soon as the porcelain framed his face, his stomach let loose. It emptied until the bowl was putrid and he flushed several times until nothing but dry heaves racked his body. _'Well tomorrow is another day… 'course with my luck… it will just get worse.'_

Eventually he was unable to kneel any longer and lay down on the cool tile before he passed out. Behind him and around the corner the plasma screen completed its run through the digital channels and began to search the analog channels. On the third analog channel, the white noise gave way to a screen from the local news desk in Greenville.

"For anyone just tuning in, the emergency broadcast system has been activated and this message will repeat every sixty seconds. We have been in contact with FEMA and Homeland Security. They have verified that the United States is under nuclear attack and EVACUATION IS MANDATORY for the upstate areas. It has been verified that nuclear warheads struck Charlotte to our north at 5:47 pm and Atlanta to our south at 5:52 pm. With current wind conditions, fallout will reach the Greenville-Spartanburg area by nine o'clock tonight. All residents of the upstate are advised to evacuate north-west before then by taking Highway 25 or I-26 west to interstate 40. Fallout is expected to cover areas north, east and south of here. The nearest safe zone has been determined to be the other side of the Smokey Mountain chain. DO NOT… REPEAT… Do not plan to stop until you reach Knoxville, TN where the first organized response will be. FEMA advises that you have at least three days worth of food and water, but if you can carry more you should. If your vehicle becomes disabled, you are advised to move it from all lanes of travel and proceed on foot."

The anchor then went off script with genuine fear showing on his face. He didn't shout as much as he emphasized every word, **"Get out and get out now. Knoxville is two hundred miles and the roads are going to clog. You can assume the gas stations are closed and your credit cards won't work anywhere. The survivors in Charlotte are also being directed to Knoxville. You have to get out and get out now."**


	2. Chapter 2

**SUMMARY: David Reid finds a new home.**

**WARNINGS: Profanity**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Call it a distraction or a series for when there is no official Jericho. The car is off timeline by a few years but you'll have to overlook it.**

--

FEEDBACK POLICY: Whether it is myself or any other author I encourage you to register and leave feedback. It encourages and rewards you and the author. It moves stories that you like back up where people can read them. Constructive comments encourage the writers by letting them know what you liked and disliked. In my case, it allowed audience participation in the writing process. Everybody benefits from good feedback.

--

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

--

**TITLE: REIDVILLE-Hangover In Hell, Chapter 2 of 5**

AKA:

STORY TYPE: Alternate Episode with Alternate Characters (Outside of Jericho)

**TIMELINE: 200X0930 (Bombs-1) **

EPISODE GUIDE: n/a

TUCKERAU GUIDE: n/a

--

--

--SCENE: Loft of David Reid in Reidville, SC

--

David slowly awoke with a pounding head, the taste of death in his mouth and a hand that had fallen asleep during the night as he used it for a pillow. He twisted his head only to expose a crick caused by the rain gutter of the shower. An attempt to open his mouth exposed cottonmouth so bad, that he dare not try the maneuver again without a glass of water in hand.

He rolled over and stared at the nightlight lit ceiling. _'Well let's ask ourselves if last night solved anything? NO!? No surprise there.'_ He winced in pain.

He then raised his arm up so he could see his watch. Pushing the cottonmouth aside, he cussed aloud, "Of fuck. It's nine. I was supposed to be at work an hour ago."

His head pounded mercilessly as he tried to stand up exposing the symptom of dehydration he had always referred to as 'dry-brain.' So much so that it tried to drive him back to his knees, but after a moment, he steadied himself and headed for the kitchen. He threw open the refrigerator door, grabbed the orange juice and threw back his head chugging the juice. _'Its warm?'_

David looked around the kitchen and saw that the clocks had lost seven hours. He didn't know when the power went off, but it was on now. He found it strange because as its planner, he knew that the city of Reidville had a direct tie to the high voltage mains coming from the Oconee nuclear power station. For the power to be off any given time meant the power station or the mains themselves were down. _'More likely something local like a ditch crew cutting an unmarked line,'_ since a drunk hitting a pole with his car couldn't happen in Reidville where all of the power and communication lines were buried.

He took the orange juice in hand and trudged upstairs to his master bathroom. He stripped off his putrid clothes and jumped in a steaming hot shower. _'At least I have a gas water heater.'_ He couldn't have taken a cold shower and no shower at all would have driven him back to drinking. He stayed in long enough to shave and work out the kinks in his neck.

After his shower, he went straight to his closet and pulled out a Brooks Brothers blue pinstripe suit tailored to his frame that he bought in the Manhattan flagship store. It was underlay by a starched linen shirt and topped with a wide silk tie. Checking his appearance in his valet's mirror suggested an adjustment to his tie and he slipped on a pair of Italian leather shoes. Taken together it was a three thousand dollar outfit and it was just one of many he owned. It wouldn't fool his secretaries who knew him like his grandmother, but provided him armor for facing the day ahead where everyone else was concerned.

"Car keys… wallet… cash… cell phone." As he went to put the phone in his pocket he checked the mode and realized the ringer was off. After the call from the paper he had turned it off and left in on his dresser. He turned on the ringer and as the mode changed, the screen displayed, '29 calls missed.'

"What the hell?" He hit the speed-dial to check his messages, but the called failed with 'No signal.' David was sating to get unsettled. _'Its got to be tied to the power outage,'_ but he didn't know how. City Hall couldn't have gone down because of backup generators, but it's possible there was a larger impact on the community.

He tried his house phone but found no dial tone. _'That's three separate and isolated systems.' _He folded his jacket over his arm and jogged to his car where he kept his city-issued incident bag.

He skipped the elevator and took the stairs two at a time for three flights. He came out of the stairwell into the basement parking garage at a near run. He ran to a new concept Dodge Challenger. The silver nuevo-muscle car was his anti-beamer in a city overrun with employees from the nearby BMW plant.

While still running to the car, he hits the remote on the car keys to pop the trunk. He reached in and ripped open the day-glo emergency/incident kit feeling for the Motorola radio in it. The radios were purchased using federal 9/11 funds and included the city, EMS, fire and police all on a common radio. He turned on the power and desperately tried all of the channels. He rechecked the battery and the front screen. He even keyed the diagnostics menu, but it reported the radio was 100.

"Oh God… what is going on?"

He threw the 1200 jacket in the truck and carried the radio with him as he jumped in the Challenger. He jammed the key in the ignition and threw the car in reverse. The 425 Hemi threw so much power to the 20 inch wheels that they spun and smoked in the confines of the underground garage. Even before the car stopped its rearward travel, David rammed the transmission forward and the smell of burning rubber filled the car.

As he neared the open garage, his initial panic was tempered by the realization that he was only a mile from the office. Killing himself in a hundred mile an hour crash seemed silly compared to the minute saved and the dozen hours he may already have lost. When he pulled out he looked both ways and used his turn signal. The roads were bare. Not just quiet but devoid of life.

Reidville was designed from the beginning to be pedestrian friendly. While everyone still had one or more cars, it was easy to walk to work or to the store. Each pod or cell development was designed so that the most common needs were within a five minute walk of residences. Normally the Challenger stayed parked, but today his urgency set the car on the prowl. There should have been people walking. Even if the kids were in school, the city's seniors were famous for walking figure eights around the city.

He drove past the mill area coffee shops and grocery store. Doors hung open and the area was strangely silent, but those weren't the only things alarming him. The road and the roofs of houses were coated in a light dusting of snow, except it was four months early for snow in the south. He passed cars but didn't see traffic. There were no signs of life.

Things started to make a little more sense when he noticed the orange flyers floating on the wind. In emergency drills they used cases of orange copy paper to print out emergency flyers. He debating on stopping but he was only a minute from City Hall. The downtown area looked like a ghost town as he parking in front of the building.

He hesitated for a minute before getting out of the car. He walked fifteen feet across the dusting of snow or ash before bending down to pick up one of the flyers.

--

**MANDATORY EVACUATION ORDER**

**DUE TO THREAT OF NUCLEAR FALLOUT**

**DESTINATION – KNOXVILLE, TN**

**PRIMARY ROUTES – I85N to I26W to I40W**

**--**

"**WHAT THE FUCK!"**

David had been thinking a gas leak or industrial accident. He looked the flyer over and while it contained a small map, it gave no indication of why or where the fallout was originating. Given the power outage he considered the idea that the nuclear plant had melted down, but given that the power was back on that seemed likely. Knoxville was also an issue because Charlotte, Columbia and Atlanta were all closer.

'_Nuclear fallout? What the hell am I doing?'_ He looked around at the snow-like dust coating everything around him. He knelt down and rubbed it between his fingers. It wasn't any snow or ice and it disintegrated like flue ash. "I'm standing in fallout. I'm covered in radioactive nuclear waste." He froze not knowing what to do. It just wasn't a situation he had planned on when he started drinking last night.

As he thought, his first instinct was to get back in the car and drive like hell. Every moment he stayed here, he was absorbing more and more radiation. He knew what radiation sickness could do and that wasn't a way to die.

His second impulse was to get back in the car and run home where he still had five bottles left in the last case of whiskey he's bought. He could take off his suit, throw on some sweats and let the alcohol kill him first. It felt and sounded a lot better than bleeding pustules and pulling his hair out while his innards were microwaved by the radiation from the fallout. Pickled just sounded better than cooked.

David actually became distress to the point where he stopped and leaned against his car while fallout slowly rained down around him. _'It does look more like rain… particles are too heavy to look like snow. I man if it was a ground level nuke it would throw millions of tons of irradiated dirt into the air.'_

Thankfully that anal-retentive, analytical side took over and it meant that he might live to see another day. _'Look on the good side… I won't be the major news story tomorrow.' _

That led him to consider his options. To start that process he had to know what was going on. He needed to know what he knew and what he didn't know and he need time to determine both.

He realized his one strength might lie in what he knew. He was in the middle of the city he designed, built and paid for. There wasn't a nail in a board that he didn't spec, buy and pay to have hammered in. What made him such a powerful administrator was his complete knowledge. He insisted on reviewing every purchase order and understanding every project or plan.

'_The multi-purpose room.'_

He jumped back in his car and drove it to the parking garage behind the city hall. While his destination was in the basement and tracking fallout throughout the building might be an issue later. Instead he drove into the sub-floor of the garage protecting his car from further fallout and bringing him to the lower rear entrance. He parked near the glass doors but did not use them. Instead he pulled out his master key and approached a double metal door labeled maintenance. It was only opened once or twice a year.

Here in the cover of the garage, was the auxiliary entrance to the multipurpose room used only during drills or real emergencies. Given his drunken ignorance of the approaching nuclear winter and its mandatory evacuation, he felt it now qualified as an emergency. The City of Reidville used the multipurpose room for everything from open town hall meetings to hosting the local science fair to sponsoring the prom. With all of the municipal purposes for the multipurpose room, many would be surprised to find it was bought and paid for with 9/11 funds.

The multipurpose room was the first purpose-built fallout shelter since the 1960s. While many old shelters were re-registered after 9/11, this was the first, and to David's knowledge, the only new construction in the United States. The idea of civil defense had grown so antiquated in the U.S. by 2000, that when he wrote the proposal he had to go to Switzerland where the government has committed to have shelters for 100 of its population by law. Once the Swiss were involved it was a simple cut and paste of a design they used every day in their own civic buildings.

That isn't to say that David is a survivalist or an end-of-the-world freak. After twenty years in real estate, development and politics you can't help but learn where the cash cows reside in the barn. He used state and federal funding every chance he got. When the town of Reidville still qualified as 'rural' they ran electric and water lines using government grants. They built roads, schools and buildings for the City of Reidville. They hired teachers, policemen and firemen using government funds. The U.S. tax payers might be surprised and subtly horrified to learn that they bought, paid for and delivered everything from garbage trucks to armored personnel carriers to the city at a time when the city had surpluses in their budgets.

David needed money to build city hall, a fire department and a police department. The glut of guilt money thrown out at the country following 9/11 paid for more than half of them all. In the case of the multipurpose room, the government provided 377 for each existing resident and 126 for each resident projected within the next ten years. As long as he could call it a fallout shelter he could get almost 10,000,000 to build his municipal buildings. Never one to welch on a deal, he determined that if it had to be a fallout shelter, it would be the best one it could be so that no one could come back later and say he defrauded the government.

When he popped open the heavy metal door, it was the first time in four months it had been opened. It opened it a stark white hallway light by fluorescent bulbs. To a knowledgeable eye, the sealed floors and epoxy painted walls would remind them of a hospital operating room where the entire room could be hosed down if need be. There was not a single pore or crevice available for contaminants to hide.

The hallway had two side doors and one large metal door at the end. The door at the end was only opened for moving large items in and out of the room. It was never used during an emergency. In an emergency, like a nuclear, biological or chemical emergency, people would be forced to enter through the men's and women's locker rooms. Ordinary in appearance, they too were painted and sealed specially. David learned through an exercise last year that people would enter through the back of the locker rooms directly into the showers. Anyone showing signs of contamination would be stripped and showered before being issued new clothes. Only then were they admitted to the shelter.

David spoke to no one as the lights flickered on, "Well I don't have any doubt I'm contaminated."

He discarded his clothes in the corner and scrubbed down in a long hot shower. With pictures of radiation poisoning still fresh in his mind professionals couldn't have done it better. He scrubbed his face and neck until they were raw and then did the same for his hands. Going back to his city issued duffle, he pulled out fresh jeans and hikers.

He walked from the showers, through the locker rooms and up to the entrance to the multipurpose room. On one side it looked like a seminar was setting up and on the other was a church or school fair. The multipurpose room was a single open space larger than most airplane hangars. If he remembered correctly there was room and supplies for two thousand if they pulled out the chairs and people only stayed the night. On the other end of the spectrum, it could be locked down from the outside world in which case there was living space and food to last 200 people 60 days. Of course if no one else showed up then it could sustain one person for forty years… theoretically.


	3. Chapter 3

**SUMMARY: David Reid settles in but not for long.**

**WARNINGS: Profanity**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: None**

--

FEEDBACK POLICY: Whether it is myself or any other author I encourage you to register and leave feedback. It encourages and rewards you and the author. It moves stories that you like back up where people can read them. Constructive comments encourage the writers by letting them know what you liked and disliked. In my case, it allowed audience participation in the writing process. Everybody benefits from good feedback.

--

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

--

**TITLE: REIDVILLE-Hangover In Hell, Chapter 3 of 5**

AKA:

STORY TYPE: Alternate Episode with Alternate Characters (Outside of Jericho)

**TIMELINE: 200X1001 (Bombs+1) **

EPISODE GUIDE: n/a

TUCKERAU GUIDE: n/a

--

--

--SCENE: Reidville City Hall, Multipurpose room

--

David Reid walked the length of the basement shelter but still had trouble thinking of it as such. He remembered too many elections and town hall meetings here. Pictures of proms, formal dinner, garden clubs and fundraisers ran through his head, but as he reached the end, he exited the room past where the band usually played. He went trough a set of simple security doors and into a continuation of the shelter. This part was 100 shelter and was little known to the town at large. Eight million dollars went to constructing the multipurpose room, but the final two million was down this hall under the fire station.

He could already hear the machinery running as he breached a second shelter door. Like the still open door at the head of the multipurpose room, this thick steel and concrete door could be hermetically sealed. It protected the brains and organs of the shelter complex and it was the shelter within the shelter. The control complex provided everything the fallout shelter needed to operate.

David entered his code in the keypad, and since the power was still on, the steel door swung open on its own. Immediately inside was the main control room. Further down were generators, air handlers, filters, a water well and storage. He used his master key to enter the control room which doubled as the City's backup command center. For whatever reason, it had apparently not been activated earlier.

He did so now by putting his key into a console and pressing the master enable. That action booted servers, radio, video and monitors that tied into every city system and some of the state and national networks. He listened as the fans of the air handlers kicked in pulling in fresh air. In the distance, he heard an alarm as the main shelter door closed and sealed. On a console in front of him, systems lit up red, but then slowly turned green one after another as they came on line, came to full power or passed their diagnostics. Power, air and water were all automatic.

While the power grid still seemed to be up, down the hall there was a room full of banks of batteries. They were kept changed by the grid and solar panels on the roof of the building. In the event that the grid went down, the batteries could be recharged and supplemented by two multi-fuel generators. The primary was supplied from the natural gas lines and the secondary from a dedicated diesel tank and a shared line to the city's fuel station. If needed either generator could be converted to the other's fuel in about twelve hours.

Procedures started many hours ago shut off the entire buildings air conditioning system so that no contamination would make it into the building, but now secondary air handlers connected to banks of micron filters pulled in fresh outside air. Once the fans established positive pressure, many would return to idle coming on only if the pressure dropped, the oxygen levels dipped or the carbon dioxide spiked. With the shelter's single occupant, they might all turn off but there was sufficient capacity to provide forty cubic feet of air per hour per person up to the maximum of two thousand people. To do so there was a bank of eight filters with each filtering out gas and particles down to the micron level from six hundred cubic meters of air.

The water for the shelter's occupants normally came from the city's supply, but when the shelter was activated, reverse-osmosis filters kicked in removing anything larger than a molecule of water. In the event the city water pressure dropped or if the shelter commander deemed it too contaminated to filter, then a nine-hundred foot water well came into play. Pulling the water from a secondary water table, the chances of contamination were fractionalized. If large volumes of water were needed both systems could be used simultaneously.

With all the lights green, he left the command room for a moment to check the other rooms. He found the bunkroom, locker room, kitchen, clinic and armory ready. Past those rooms was a small warehouse which he entered through a simple roll up door. Before him was twenty-foot high racks with pallets stacked three high. Some contained tables, chairs and cots, while others contained MREs and bulk food items. Off to one side was an equipment cage and on the other a large walk in freezer. He took a second to unlock the equipment cage and another to check the temperature on the freezer.

Inside the freezer was one fifth of the state's allotment of emergency medicines issued by the CDC. The Greenville Hospital system had another fifth. Columbia had two allotments and Charleston had the last one. In addition to epidemiological medications, the top twenty live saving drugs were stockpiled with insulin as an example.

A few minutes later David found himself in the command center wondering, _'Now what?'_ Minutes passed while he determined, _'Now we know what we know. I'm alive and can stay that way indefinitely. All systems are go and nothing needs fixing except a hellish hangover.'_ That prompted him to go to the kitchen and clinic from which he returned with water and aspirin.

'_Now its time to figure out what I don't know… which is what the fuck happened.'_

Back in the command center, he looked up onto the walls and found a map of Reidville. Five miles north to south. Six miles east to west. Next was a map of the upstate of South Carolina, then a map of the I-85 corridor from Atlanta to Charlotte and finally a U.S. Map. Next to the control console was a bookshelf with every contingency plan documented. Most of them were cut and paste of standard documents, but he remembered the ones on the shelter based disasters well. After a quick review of the ones from Homeland Security, they had thrown then to the side and contracted a Swiss company to provide updated documents. Their experience studying the Chernobyl and Bhopal accidents dated the U.S. documents by forty years. Only the 9/11 Commission Report was given any credence but it had never been integrated into the DHS plans. After Katrina, all FEMA plans were disregarded out of hand.

On the other side of the room were several banks of servers and disk devices accompanied by a counter with four workstations. He went to one of them and logged in using his account as city manager and went into the City's video archives. It took him a few minutes to get where he was going because it wasn't an application he used often. Everything from red light cameras to City Hall's video surveillance cameras were recorded and stored for a time. The camera he needed was turned on automatically and stored indefinitely.

David double clicked on /city/police/cityhall/commandcenter/ and entered a start time of three o'clock yesterday. He left work at that time and no emergencies were on the horizon. He also called up the feed for CNN and set them to play in sync. He fast forwarded to when the lights came on in the command center. At the time, CNN was off air as well. He backed up to 5:50pm. At that time, CNN was reporting on satellite issues they were having from some of their remotes. They were speculating it might be solar flares, but they were confident they would be able to keep the main feed going from Atlanta and their remotes from DC, where the president would speak at 7pm, and NYC were fine. CNN-Atlanta went off the air at 5:52.

CNN stayed off the air until 5:57 when the political hosts in Washington D.C. took over citing communication issues with Atlanta. They reassured viewers that the studio was fully capable of covering the president's address while Atlanta came back on line. They were reporting some activity at the White House and in Congress when CNN-DC went off the air at 6:01.

CNN-NYC, given the continuing problems, switched over immediately as the primary broadcaster at 6:03pm. They came on the air with a member of their morning team and someone from one of their talk shows. Immediately they reported that they had no communication with any of the Atlanta, DC or LA offices. A producer could be heard from off-camera yelling that they were trying to check in with affiliates.

At 6:07, CNN-NYC reported hesitantly, "We have a report from the pentagon that we have confirmed in the last few minutes with affiliates in the areas." The anchor hesitated again, "In the last ten to fifteen minutes two to four nuclear explosions have gone off in the Washington-Baltimore corridor. We also believe that Atlanta and LA have been hit has well." The anchor looked like he was going to throw up.

David shared the sentiment but wasn't as stunned as he thought he should be. By the time CNN-DC went off the air, he had already started to think it would be something like this. Given the evacuations and the slow lead up as cities blinked off the grid, it was almost expected. The question now would be the scope and scale. He continued watching wondering if they were limited terrorist attacks or if the US and Russia had just unleashed Armageddon upon the world.

At 6:23pm, Reidville Police Chief Katherine McCarrol activated the incident command center located on the second floor of the City Hall adjacent to the dispatcher's area. Like the command center he sat in, when she hit the master enable everything not already started powered up including the video recorder feed.

David had known Katherine since she was a detective in the City of Greenville Police Department. She had all the requisite training and experience to take over as Chief there, but politics and the size of the department worked against her. As was required in many modern careers, the only way to get a promotion was to look elsewhere. David had interviewed her six years ago and hired her on the spot. Her energy followed her into her into any room and her attention to detail commanded respect with any audience.

He could hear her on the recording talking to one of her police officers, "Let's run it according to the book. Item #1 seal the building and recall all officers. #2 Locate the mayor and David Reid." She turned and looked at the officer forcefully, "I'm not as worried about the mayor… but I want David Reid here right now. Its Monday night so he'll be jogging the trails or working out at the fight club. Call his cell but if he doesn't answer send a car to track him down."

He watched as she turned to the monitors with the national news. Three of the six monitors stayed dark. With the monitors showing nothing but speculation, she turned to the speakerphone and started hitting speed dials. He heard as she talked to the state FEMA coordinator, the state police and the governor's office. Everyone told her to hold on while they got a handle on things and not to panic even though they seemed to be doing just that.

By the time she finished the last call, the fire chief and the EMS coordinator were in the room. David watched as they debated and decided on a two-prong approach. First, they prepared for a full power outage with all of the chaos and insecurity that would cause. Calls went out to the power company and the hospital. An order was given to recall all city employees and to contact the utility contractors kept on retainer by the city. Second, they discussed opening the shelters including the multipurpose room and five other designated storm shelters. Given the lack of need at the moment and the unknown situation, that idea was on hold pending more information or official word.

Katherine looked at the clock on the wall which reported 7:03. "Where is David Reid?"

"We've been calling his cell but no answer. He's not working out so we have people literally running the trails to find him."

"Great… there's twenty seven miles of trails. Have we got the mayor yet?"

"He's pulling in now. He said not to make any decisions without him."

Katherine let out her exasperation, "Great… just fucking great." She spoke to the fire chief as an aside, "You know he's going to be useless. He's a holdover from when this place was a crossroads with a stop sign."

The fire chief agreed, but felt forced to add, "But until we can find David, he's got the official call. Maybe you shouldn't have called him."

She blew out her breath through pursed lips. "Yeah, well its too late now."

David watched fighting the temptation to stay detached like it was a reality TV show. He couldn't give in to that notion because the people on the screens were his friends, and in one case lover, and by extension what happened to them was happening to him. Watching Mayor George Anderson barge into the room gave him a sense of helplessness since he knew the dynamic and all-powerful city manager wasn't going to be found in time.

David Reid made several compromises in the early development of Reidville. The actual town of Reidville existed and had since 1857, but was little more than a collection of streets. A modern housing development would be larger but on the first Tuesday of every month, the Mayor would have office hours and hold a meeting to discuss trashcans and park benches. When David picked one of those Tuesdays to show up with his plans for the new and improved Reidville, he had to promise to bring the mayor along. While David couldn't control the quadrennial elections, in good faith he supported the mayor with his endorsement when asked. To be honest, the mayor had been useful over the years and had contributed, but as the town grew outside of its original borders, it also outgrew the Mayor's ability to grasp.

Mayor Anderson started, "So what do we have here?"

Katherine went straight to the heart of it. "We have at least one nuclear explosion 150 miles south of us in Atlanta… size and magnitude unknown. We also believe that two to four nukes removed Washington DC from the map along with the President and Congress. There are likely other attacks including LA but we're still getting shreds of information."

The mayor turned pale white, "Is this a drill?"

"NO." Katherine was exasperated that she had to answer him. If he couldn't feel the very real electricity in the air and physical tension everyone was exuding, he didn't belong in the room. "CNN has been taken down in two cities and is reporting the attacks on the open air."

"What about the government?"

"We're it."

"I meant the state and federal government."

"State has no idea. They're twiddling their thumbs talking about calling out the guard but that's pretty much useless. Most of the guard is still in Iraq. Last time I checked they had two hummers in Spartanburg and I think the Greenville unit had a few trucks. Whatever force they do have I believe the Governor will keep for himself and the state police."

"So where do we go? What do we do?"

"That's the million dollar question."


	4. Chapter 4

**SUMMARY: David Reid watches the past.**

**WARNINGS: Profanity**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: None**

--

FEEDBACK POLICY: Whether it is myself or any other author I encourage you to register and leave feedback. It encourages and rewards you and the author. It moves stories that you like back up where people can read them. Constructive comments encourage the writers by letting them know what you liked and disliked. In my case, it allowed audience participation in the writing process. Everybody benefits from good feedback.

--

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

--

**TITLE: REIDVILLE-Hangover In Hell, Chapter 4 of 5**

AKA:

STORY TYPE: Alternate Episode with Alternate Characters (Outside of Jericho)

**TIMELINE: 200X1001 (Bombs+1)**

EPISODE GUIDE: n/a

TUCKERAU GUIDE: n/a

--

--

--SCENE: Reidville City Hall, Multipurpose room

--

David Reid sat in emotional agony as he watched disaster hit his city. He felt like turning it off, but the information was too valuable and he couldn't get over the feeling that there was still something he could do. He watched as Katherine kept control of the situation.

"Find me David Reid! Go to his house."

The exasperated officer responded. "They did and got no answer. He's out jogging and we just haven't found him yet. We're covering each neighborhood starting with the mill town area. Unless you want me to sound the civil defense sirens there's not much I else I can do."

Katherine resisted the urge to lash out as the fire chief got her attention. "My people have checked in. I've got twenty full time and twenty volunteers."

She responded, "I have ten on duty already but only seven more have responded to the call back. The power company says to expect brown outs but short of an EMP over the east coast they should stay on line. Their main concerns are surges, downed lines and fires."

"What's happening on the streets?"

David took a second to dial in some of the same video feeds they were watching. He could see neighbors standing in the streets and the red-light camera at the east intersection showed a line at the gas bumps.

An officer responded to the Chief's question. "They're calling us, but the majority of the calls are going to the county 911. They're so slammed they've told us to route and respond on our own although our only official incident is a fender bender."

Since the officer seemed to have talked to someone at county more recently than she had, she queried, "What else is county doing?"

"Asking us what we're doing. Nobody has enough to go on."

Katherine nodded her head. "Let's get people started setting up the storm shelters. It will take a while to get them going so get with the Red Cross now. Let's see if we can get in line first for whatever resources they have. They're not self contained like the shelter here."

David watched as Katherine paced the floor. He imagined a split screen where he was half way through the first bottle. Not numb yet, he had been pushing hard as he abandoned any hope of getting his lawyers and bankers started on his problems. He had planned on doing that today if only the world hadn't gone to hell.

i'You should have kicked in my door,'/i he thought but then realized how unrealistic it was. Even if they could have gotten through the two inches of oak and the double deadbolts, it wasn't their job to find him. It was his job to be there leading them. He should have been the first in that command center and last to leave it. He was the ship's captain and his vessel had hit an iceberg. He watched on not knowing if it had sank.

"CHIEF MCCARROL! County is calling asking if we can spare some units."

Katherine looked puzzled, "To do what?"

"Crowd control. Looting has started in some of the neighborhoods at the stores, banks and gas stations."

While she thought about it, her eyes were drawn to the ATM two blocks away where two men were fighting. She pointed at the monitor, "Get someone over there."

"We can't. There are only four cars rolling. All four have been called to gas stations or grocery stores. People are causing a ruckus that they can't use their credit cards."

"This is going to get worse before it gets better. Tell county we have our hands full. Tell the officers at those stores to shut them down."

The mayor interjected, "You can't just shut the stores. There are people trying to get food and supplies."

"They should have done it sooner. There's no way I can control one riot with four cars, much less a dozen. We're going to lose the grocery stores, but I want two units and a fire truck at the east and west intersections. There are two-three gas stations at each. Let's see if can keep them from setting anything on fire."

The mayor offered, "Maybe we should evacuate?"

This time the fire chief cut into him, "To where? We don't know what's going on. Opening the shelters or ordering an evacuation would be premature. You'd just cause a panic."

Katherine asked, "Are we getting anything useful off the local channels?"

"No Ma'am. They're just quoting the main news channels."

"Call them and ask them to send a crew over here. Offer them an interview or call it a news conference. Let's see if we can start trying to calm someone down." She looked up at the clock and realized it was a little past eight.

The officer started making the calls but before he ever got through all of the screens blinked and the symbol came on the screen for the emergency alert network. At the same time, an emergency action notice printed out from a dedicated receiver. Katherine noted, "OK… here it is… it will solve everything or deliver us to hell in a hand basket."

The same tone made famous to everyone as part of the Emergency Broadcast System came on by the following verbal message;

"**The is an activation of the Emergency Alert Network for the upstate of South Carolina including Anderson, Greenville, Oconee, Pickens and Spartanburg counties. This is not a test.**

**There have been multiple events affecting your area including nuclear detonations in Charlotte NC at 5:47pm and Atlanta GA at 5:52pm. Reports have confirmed that radioactive fallout has already been measured in northern Georgia. Prevailing wind conditions project initial fallout in the city of Greenville at 9:03pm and the city of Spartanburg at 9:27pm. All residents are hereby ordered to evacuate the area immediately. FEMA is establishing a support center for evacuees in Knoxville TN. Once in Knoxville, you will receive further instructions. REPEAT… the upstate of South Carolina is subject to a mandatory evacuation of all residents to Knoxville TN.**

**This concludes the alert."**

"**WHAT THE FUCK?"** Katherine was livid, "We're supposed to stage a two hundred mile evacuation in an hour."

The fire chief tried to work with her, "Maybe we have some leeway. You have to admit we're one of the few with real shelters."

"Get FEMA on the line!"

"The phone lines are jammed. I haven't gotten an answer in the last hour and I'm using three separate lines."

"Try the video conference… they always answer when they get to use one of their toys."

While they waited, she turned to the mayor and fire chief. "Can you believe this?"

The mayor answered, "Shouldn't we start the evacuation?"

Katherine started on a rant, "Start what? With only an hour, all we can do is pass out flyers and say 'Good luck.' Its ridiculous. They'll be playing bumper cars with three hundred thousand other people on four lanes of highway. Some asswipe at FEMA looked at a map and said 'here 'ya go'. He didn't bother to think about the Smokey Mountain pass where a single car accident can back up traffic on I-40 for seventeen miles. Seventeen miles without a gas station or an exit. If they're lucky people will have the sense to push the accident over the cliff because that's all there is. A four hundred foot cliff up and a four hundred foot cliff down."

The fire chief tried to get her under control, but only poured fuel on the fire. "Look at this." He handed her the printed message.

For the regional coordinator at FEMA who answered the video link and was already having a hellish day, Katherine McCarrol might as well have been the devil. "Hello… Southeast Coordinator Stewart here. Make it fast. I have a meeting in seven minutes."

"**WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WE ARE ORDERED TO KEEP OUR SHELTERS CLOSED?"**

He turned stern and bureaucratic, "Who am I speaking with?"

"Police Chief McCarrol in Reidville, SC. We have a fully operation shelter here and five auxiliaries. Instead of taking sheltered we've been ordered to evacuate the along with the entire upstate up one highway."

"Ms. McCurry. We've ordered all shelters closed because we simply do not want another superdome situation on out hands. Now I doubt your shelters will hold three hundred thousand people and I can't tell you how long they'll have to hold the ones you can. We need to get those people moving and we need to get them moving NOW. Its only thirty or forty miles to the border and out of the fallout. If we get people moving now they can be clear before the fallout even gets there."

"**BULLSHIT.** **These roads get clogged with accidents in a light rain much less cities running for their lives."**

"The decisions have been made at the state and federal levels and this qualifies as a National Security Order. You are compelled to follow them. Willful disobedience of a NSO can be a capital crime."

"**You're putting people from my community into the fallout when I could give them shelter."**

"Yes, well I'm authorized to make that decision. You are not. The order stands. All shelters are to remain closed. There are to be no exceptions."

The video link terminated and the room stayed quiet for several minutes.

The fire chief moved to console Katherine, "We can't fit everyone in the shelters anyways and we don't have the people to guide an evacuation and open shelters."

She looked crushed, "We could still open the shelters. Give people a choice."

The mayor spoke up, "No. It would be criminal. You heard them… they'll hold us responsible for anyone that doesn't evacuate."

She spat back, **"Fuck them... I'm responsible for the people of this city."**

The mayor responded levelly, "So am I. The shelters are limited and have limited supplies. We can not be responsible for locking people in a hole when there is a relief effort a three hour drive from here. I hereby order all city officials to aid in the evacuation as ordered by the federal government."

Katherine thought, _'Where are you David?'_

She didn't have any fight in her as she realized she had her own family to take care of. She'd left her husband and daughter during dinner and given the circumstances, she made the decision to go along. "Alright… open up the pumps and have them top off people's tanks in an orderly fashion. For anyone that wants an escort let's ask for volunteers to provide blue light escorts using police cars. I need the firefighters to take the evacuation orders and notify the neighborhoods. Use bullhorns and flyers, but by ten I want everyone released to take care of their own families."

She then picked up a phone to call her husband, but made a request of the officer at the console, "Get me a full hazmat suit."

He looked puzzled, "For what?"

"I'll be staying until I can get FEMA to change their mind or I die trying."


	5. Chapter 5

**SUMMARY: David Reid lives in the present.**

**WARNINGS: Profanity**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Short but it's a good stopping point.**

--

FEEDBACK POLICY: Whether it is myself or any other author I encourage you to register and leave feedback. It encourages and rewards you and the author. It moves stories that you like back up where people can read them. Constructive comments encourage the writers by letting them know what you liked and disliked. In my case, it allowed audience participation in the writing process. Everybody benefits from good feedback.

--

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

--

**TITLE: REIDVILLE-Hangover In Hell, Chapter 5 of 5**

AKA:

STORY TYPE: Alternate Episode with Alternate Characters (Outside of Jericho)

**TIMELINE: 200X1001 (Bombs+1) **

EPISODE GUIDE: n/a

TUCKERAU GUIDE: n/a

--

--

--SCENE: Reidville City Hall, Multipurpose room

--

"I'll be staying until I can get FEMA to change their mind or I die trying."

That was it for David. He shot up out of his seat and wrung his hands together. For the first time since he had started watching the archived video footage he started to fast forward. "Come on Katherine… get out of there!"

He watched her make call after call to FEMA and the Governor's office. She got more information but not the support she needed. David watched along with her and yelled at the screen as she used the DOT cameras to check the roads. David only had two or three of them archived but it was enough to see the gridlock on the interstate. The only saving grace as he saw it was that there was no southbound traffic. As the northbound side ground to a standstill, motorists began to brave the chance of a head on collision by using the southbound lanes to go north. For a while that seemed to get both sides moving again but eventually it too slowed to a halt.

David watched along with Katherine as her fears came true. Faced with the certainty of the fallout, people just a few miles from their homes were forced to walk. Some walked back home in the falling ash and other walked north having gone only a fraction of the full distance. David watched as Katherine wept.

Soon he wept with her as a woman that he genuinely loved slowly donned her hazmat suit. She started by pulling the rubberized suit from its package then placing it, the boots, tape and mask on the counter. He clutched the computer's mouse as she struggled to push her legs through the elastic cuffs but was relieved a little as she pulled it up to her shoulders and put her hands through. She zipped it up careful not to cross over the zipper. She then took the duct tape and sealed the zipper from thigh to neck and then each arm and leg cuff. Next the boots went on with another layer of tape and her gloves with even more tape.

David looked at the timestamp and realized it was almost midnight her time. The fallout had been on the ground for more than two and a half hours. A check of the outside cameras confirmed the light dusting that covered everything. He screamed, **"DAMMIT… USE THE SHELTER!" **even though he knew she wouldn't.

His treatment of the past as if it was the present was tearing him up. The hangover that he arrived with was even worse now as he got himself worked up. His high blood pressure and pounding head did little to temper his ranting and raving. **"DAMMIT KATIE… YOU DON"T HAVE TO DIE TO PROVE A POINT. GET IN THE FUCKING SHELTER."**

But his knowledge of her included a knowledge of her stubborn, bullheaded ways. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together and it was why their affair failed so miserably. The affair had been brief but explosively intense. Unlike his annulled marriage, he knew that she had loved him because it was more than just passion that had brought them together.

Eventually reality tore them apart, but not because of a lack of live. If anything it was because she loved too much and too many. Her brief separation from her husband ended and they reconciled their marriage. While it left him devastated for a time, he couldn't blame her. She had loved her husband first and made lifelong commitments to him and her daughter. Katie had even warned him when it started that their affair was doomed to end, but looking back, he still felt like it was his best decision even if it had been an immoral one. She taught him more about life and love in those three weeks than he had learned in the previous forty-two years. The fact that he knew and respected her husband as a good man made her decision that much more bearable, but muted, the pain still burned like an acid.

Three years after their affair, the torch he bore for her burned just as bright as he watched her pick up the gas mask. She used some water from a bottle to wet back her hair so it didn't fall in her face and screwed on the filter cartridge. From experience, she adjusted the straps and starting at the chin pulled it up and over her face.

David stopped the archive footage and backed it up until he could see her face. He was thinking it was the last time he would see her and sent the image on the screen to the color laser because he believed it was the last picture of her he would ever have. "God how I love that face."

While a pit formed in his stomach and the acid roiled, the camera showed her standing up and walking out of the room. He quickly switched cameras as she walked the hall and down the stairs. The last camera showed her pushing open the building's front door and exiting onto the sidewalk. Her footprints showed in the ash as if it was snow.

He scrambled to switch to the downtown cameras but came up blank. Looking at the clock he realized that the twelve-hour limit had been exceeded and the video was lost. He quickly went back to the city hall cameras and switched to a birds eye view from a rooftop camera. He watched until she faded from view when took a right turn two blocks down.

David stood and put his fist through the wall.


End file.
